


He Says I Felt Like Safety and Home

by localizedbliss (legitleftfield)



Series: This Could Be Good [2]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: I am too lazy and don't like him enough to add him, Lucio is not a creepy goatman here, M/M, he's just like being a goatman somewhere else, he's still alive as a goatman, part two: he/him pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25508716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legitleftfield/pseuds/localizedbliss
Summary: He eased Asra's hands away, wiping his face down with his sleeves, "He's gone and I can't even look for him," he cried, the tears not stopping their path. "Who?" Asra asked, laying a hand on his. The words slipped out before he even had the chance to think them, and they didn't stop, "I don't know," he answered.
Relationships: Apprentice/Muriel (The Arcana), Muriel (The Arcana)/Original Male Character(s), Muriel (The Arcana)/Reader
Series: This Could Be Good [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1467829
Kudos: 16





	1. Did You Forget Me?

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i completely forgot about this series. i have no excuse.

The path the two magic users walked was overgrown with weeds and roots, and offered a concert of chirping birds that sang in the morning light. Verdan was quiet as he walked next to Asra, the both of them feeling relaxed while they passed through rays of sunlight, Faust chattering enough for the two of them while she weaved her way through Asra's outer clothes and slinking over Verdan's shoulders while she rambled. Her gentle voice, with it’s  _ s's _ and  _ c's _ rolling over her forked tongue. It was a welcome sound for Verdan, whose morning was ruined before he even woke up. Dreams were once again plagued with a faceless, voiceless man he knew nothing about but trusted implicitly. He had woken with tears staining his face, Asra looming over him with concern shining in those jeweled eyes. All at once being in his bedroom, being in the shop proved too much for him and he went with Asra for the day's errands. A visit to a friend, stops to restock and then treating themselves at their favorite baker's stall.

Asra hadn’t told him anything about this old friend of his, just that the visit would be quick and they’d be off again. Verdan wasn’t sure he actually believed him. Asra was well known for ‘just popping by’ somewhere and ending up spending half the day chatting and gossiping. Asra didn’t know what a quick trip meant.

“What are we going there for, again?” Verdan bounded ahead to stop and pluck some wildflowers growing alongside the path. The vibrant colors called to him, the yellows and oranges of the petals standing out against his dark hair as he tucked and twisted the stems into his thick braid. He stepped off the path to collect a handful of smaller flowers, the purple a close match to his friend’s eyes, that grew closer to the thick trunks than the overturned dirt and rocks and roots that made up the path. Asra was kind enough to stop and lean forward for him to push the flowers through his white curls.

"Just some protective charms, and to see how my friend is doing. It's been a few months since I've dropped by," Asra bent his head lower for him, fixing a flower in Verdan’s own hair that was falling out, "he doesn't like to go out into the city much, so I try to come see him more than he comes to see me."

"Hm. Is he nice?" Verdan asked as they continued their walk, hopping over a particularly large root protruding through the dirt. Asra laughed at his question, "Trying to pick him up, Verdan?" There was a tone in his voice that made the other man pause. He looked over at him with narrowed eyes and tried to intimidate Asra into explaining that tone he was taking.

"No," he poked the white haired man harshly, "but I am curious. If he's anything like that Gahemain, I'm taking Faust and we're sitting outside." He  _ hmphed _ , linking his arm through the one Asra offered. The path was thinning out now, cleared from all the overgrowth that covered it behind them. There was soft clucking in the distance that grew louder the closer they went, until they came across a small... house? Verdan wasn't sure if it could be qualified as that. The stone that made up the exterior seemed cold, even on the warm summer day, and the tree that grew over it (the roof?) extended around the sides of the building, the roots growing down into the dirt and creating what Verdan could only imagine as a slide. 

There was a wiggling feeling at the back of his mind. A flash of pain-not-pain. He had a sudden bout of sadness over the view.

  
  


"Asra." The rough voice startles Verdan. So busy looking over the literal tree house, he hadn't noticed another person here. He was a big man, with well defined muscles partially covered by half of an animal's black pelt. Under it, Verdan can see what seems to be a partially ripped cloak, attached to the thick, spiked collar around his neck, its connected chain clicking loud in the peaceful air. He wore black pants with a few other smaller, colored pelts over it with a thick belt to keep everything together. Verdan noticed the matching set of spiked chains on his wrists, and they made his brows dip on his forehead.

A dreadful thing, that collar is. His stomach lurches at the sight of it, knowing that a thing like that does not belong on him but not sure how he does. The man’s skin was covered in scars, most notable the one carved in the middle of his right cheek that trailed down to his jaw. The mountain of a man moves, his head twitching and suddenly Verdan is left looking into startling green eyes, the color bright and glaring at him. Shaggy strands of black hair sit in front of his face, and his piercing gaze transferred to Asra. He didn't speak, Verdan found himself sorely disappointed over this as Asra answered an unspoken question.

"Haven't seen you in a while, Muriel,"  _ nice name _ , Verdan mused to himself, "so I thought we'd stop by." Asra beamed at the man, the smile being one Verdan has seen him use countless times before to get just one more muffin, just a few scoops extra of this spice and that cream. The man, Muriel, didn't seem to buy into that grin. A little part of him inside was pleased. Asra gets away with too much these days.

"We?" Muriel's voice was rough against his ears, a gravelly sound that Verdan enjoyed.

"Yes, me and my apprentice. Muriel, this is Verdan." Asra gestured to him with a sweeping hand, stepping to the side as if to show him off like one of his favored books in the shop. Verdan felt a little objectified, but only a little, because he knew Asra's gesture was one of good fun. He'd get the man back later.

"Hello. My name is Verdanndi, but please, call me Verdan." He smiled at Muriel, waving his hand but not offering to shake. Muriel hadn't moved any closer since Asra first introduced him, and the man didn't seem very interested in being friendly towards him anyway. Asra, too, but after a few moments he could recognize that fond annoyance he so often felt as well about the white haired man. Verdan watched as Muriel twitched, a slight movement of hands like he was hesitant about even breathing in front of them. Muriel eyed Verdan one last time before flicking a glance at Asra and turning away, towards his home.

"Hi," and then, "Come in." Asra moved to follow him, but Verdan stayed in place even when Asra gave him a quick 'come on' wave of his hand. Verdan didn’t think it’d be a good idea to go inside Muriel’s house, not when he seemed so uncomfortable with him. Asra shot him a sad look, one he didn't understand, and allowed Faust to slither from his arm to gently drop to the ground where she was fast to join Verdan.

" _ Friend! _ " Her soft voice filled with glee.

"We'll just be over there," he pointed at a nearby tree bathed in the light, walking away already, "come get us when you're done!"

  
  


The tree was surprisingly comfortable to rest against, once Verdan shed some of his layers to lay on. Faust was already settling down on the right of the tree, where the leaves from above offer a nice shaded patch for the snake. Verdan checked her over with a smile before laying back and closing his eyes. His nose was filled with the scent of the forest, the sharp cut of grass and the always tickling smell of the trees. He sighed in contentment, ignored that little wiggling feeling of pain-not-pain and fell asleep before he even realized he was tired.

  
  
  


It seemed like seconds later he was blinking awake, but instead of staring at rays of sunlight between the leaves, instead he was staring at a fire-lit wall, the sound of crackling logs in his ears. He was warm, pleasantly so, wrapped up in two thick arms. The pair belonged to a man, obvious in the thick corded muscles surrounding him, the heavy hands clasped over his stomach. "Verdan," he said, and he immediately forgot how the man sounded.

"My love," the man whispered, a tone of reverence and awe; words breathed so softly it was as if Verdan wasn’t meant to hear them. Turning to face the man he was met with nothing, just a blank face. A blur over his entire being. He could not tell you the skin color, or what the hair looked like, or the eyes. Anything to identify this man drifted away even as he looked directly at him. Tears gathered in his eyes, falling from his cheeks onto the pillow under his head. "Oh, Verdan" the man sighed, breath warm on his face, "do not cry." He couldn't help it, he knew this man, he was his soul and yet he could not identify him. It hurt in his heart and he was so alone.

"I miss you," he told him, "I don't know your face, and I miss you so much." He cried, and they spoke no more. Verdan was left alone, in his arms, desperately trying to cling to whatever he could to find him, but it all faded from his mind the second he looked away. He had nothing to comfort himself, nothing but foggy memories that only gave him a desolate sorrow. It grew in him, like a bed of castor bean bushes buried inside her body. His sobs shook his frame, his tears collecting under him and drowning him in their volume, "Please," he cried out in despair, "I miss you," and then there was nothing. White surrounded him, and he was utterly alone.

  
  
  


When Verdan next opened his eyes, Faust was gone, and there were rapid thumps coming his way. When he turned his head he saw Asra running to him and Muriel close behind. The shortly missing Faust was just slithering out the door of Muriel's home, far away from Verdan but he could still hear Faust’s quiet words of concern. Asra knelt down, his hands joining Verdan’s in wiping away the tears that continued to pour. He couldn't fully explain his crying, memories of his dream quickly drifting away with nothing but feelings left behind.

"Verdan? What's wrong, are you hurt?" His free hand drifted down Verdan’s arm, checking for a nonexistent injury. He eased Asra’s hands away, wiping his face down with his sleeves, "He's gone and I can't even look for him," he cried softly, the tears not stopping their path. "Who?" Asra asked, laying a hand on his. The words slipped out before he even had the chance to think about them, "I don't know," he answered, "I miss him, so much. Every day I feel his absence, like an old wound that never quite healed right, and every day I search for his face in so many men. I don't even know what I'm looking for. I remember nothing of his face, his voice. I'm chasing a ghost, and I can't stop because what if he is out there, Asra? He is my soulmate, my other half, he is mine and I don't know where he is. Does he know who I am, does he dream of me as I dream of him?" He asked his friend, desperate for an answer Asra cannot give. 

  
  


Asra just squeezed his hand in support, guilt lurking behind those gemstone eyes of his. Muriel stood silent, eyes flicking between the grass and Verdan, not that he noticed with his head tucked into their friend's shoulder. Asra's face showed the agony he felt as he cried, and Muriel felt his stomach twist at the sound of his wailing. "He knows," Muriel spoke before he could stop himself, "and he dreams of you too."  _ Because he is me _ , went unsaid, a secret only known to himself and Asra that Verdan's missing man truly stood before him. "He will find you." Muriel promised, when he should not have, but he simply couldn't bear to hear him cry anymore. Not when he can't be the one to comfort him, to kiss his brow and smooth his hair down. 

"How?" He questions fiercely, guilty for taking a tone with a man who was just trying to make him feel better, but he has listened to Asra promise the same for months and he can't stand to hear it anymore. "I can't pick him out in a crowd. I can't listen to him say my name and just know, because everything I learn of him slips away just as fast. All I'm left with is how I feel and that's  _ useless _ to me. Feelings won't find him, nothing will." His chest heaved, and in the back of his mind came that wiggling feeling. 

Distantly, he thought about the basket he'd put together for him, an apology for his rude behavior. Who visits someone's home, has a breakdown in their front yard and then yells at them? Verdan, apparently.

"How did you feel with him?" Verdan could see Asra side-eyeing Muriel, but he no longer cared. He collapsed in on himself, spoke to his hands that twisted in his lap. 

"I remember... safety. Like the only place I was truly safe was in his arms. I remember feeling at home, and feeling loved and happy. But not his face. I never remember his face." He quietly mourned. He no longer wanted to be in this place, with its fresh air and sunshine. He wanted his bed, and his Honey-Pepper tea and he wanted this man who he doesn’t remember but loves so,  _ so _ much. 

Without another word he stood and made his way to the path to go back to the shop, ignoring Asra’s gentle request for him to come back. He couldn’t be around those two anymore.

The forest was silent as he walked through it. Truly, he was alone.


	2. my love, my love, my love, my love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I kinda feel like with this chapter I'm possibly just throwing canon away? I haven't finished Muriel's story yet (I'm on book 9) and I have no idea what happened between him being a gladiator, Lucio dying and what happened to him after that. But whatever! Muriel deserves love and I'm gonna give it to him with an OC

Verdan hummed as he sprinkled feed for the chickens, watching Muriel in the distance as he chopped wood. Muriel was shirtless, as he usually was, but he didn’t have his chains and collar on. It sent a soft thrill throughout his body, seeing him like that, and even Inanna seemed to look happier today when she interacted with him. Verdan could count on one hand the number of times Muriel had gone without both of those things at the same time. The collar stayed on more than the chains on his wrist, but Muriel choosing to go without both was a pleasantly rare surprise. Verdan was always happy to help Muriel dress for the day, using any excuse he could get to put his hands on the man, but helping him with the chains was the one thing he couldn’t bear to put on. He understood Muriel’s reasons for wearing them, and he wouldn’t try to force him to take them off unless it was absolutely necessary.

(He doesn’t remember it, and likely never would, but Asra told him about how he had once gotten Muriel to remove those damn things. It was early into their relationship, and Muriel had been hurt badly and he could hardly help heal him with the thick metal in the way of his wounds. Asra said it was the only time he ever really raised his voice at him)

A sharp series of pecks against his foot brought him back to the present. He looked down to see a rooster, Vestil, if he remembered correctly, that had accidentally got his foot in an effort to finish of the small pile of feed that he had allowed to slip from his hands. 

“Pig.” Verdan gently nudged him away. A little round ball of fluff filled his spot. Vestil wandered off when Verdan continued to ward him away from the chick eating.

“Rooster, not a pig.” The unexpected words scared him as much as the man that said them. Verdan looked back up with a smile, carefully making his way through the cluster of chickens. Muriel had already bent down for Verdan to press a kiss against his jaw. Muriel’s face flushed sweetly. 

“With how he eats, I wouldn’t be so sure.” Verdan tilted his head up for another kiss, this time against Muriel’s lips, before curling happily against the man’s chest. Muriel dipped his hand into the feed bag where it rested against Verdan’s side and flung seed around. The chickens immediately followed the food, Vestil already pecking away.

Muriel’s hands found their way to his back, spots of warmth sinking into his skin through his clothes. It felt nice. Verdan sighed happily, basking in the affection Muriel was giving before pulling away. He returned the feed bag to Muriel, who knotted it closed and went back inside to put it away. Muriel picked up the axe he was using where it lay buried in the ground when he walked by. Verdan snuck a glance when he bent over. 

He’s only human.

“I’ll be in shortly. We can take a little nap until lunch is done,” Verdan called out, smiling at Muriel’s back. He didn’t answer but Verdan knew he agreed. The weather hadn’t been as warm lately, and the sun was hardly shining. Perfect weather for napping. Verdan knew for a fact Inanna hardly left her spot beside the door today.

Verdan watched their chickens for a few minutes more, making sure Vestil didn’t hog the feed before following Muriel inside. He shut the door behind himself, bent to pat Inanna softly on her napping head, and flicked the lock over. Muriel was on their bed unlacing his boots when he started walking over. Verdan pulled off his over clothes on the way, and Muriel glanced up at him a few times as his fingers worked, pulling the laces and kicking the boots off with his heel. When he was done Verdan had finished folding his clothes neatly on the chest at the end of his bed, wearing nothing but his small clothes. 

Veran smiled as Muriel tried to avoid that he was wearing so little, so he took pity on him. This was all still so new to the man, learning and being together again. He carefully lifted the chests top, grabbing a thin undershirt of Muriel’s that he only used during the winter. The hem fell just above his knee, the sleeves to his elbows. It was soft, and smelled like Muriel.

“Hour left on the stew.” Muriel brought his legs up, laying flat on his back. Verdan crawled in next to him, settling easily into his side.

“Okay. I was thinking we could stop by the market tonight? For dinner. Pashmina tried something new on that smoked eel you liked so much. Promised us as much as we want, on the house, for being taste-testers,” Verdan spoke softly, loving the smile that graced Muriel’s face, however small it was.

“If that’s what you want,” he replied, and when Verdan simply looked at him he blushed. “I would like that,” He nodded.

“Better.” He pressed a kiss to Muriel’s shoulder, throwing an arm over his chest.

Muriel sighed softly, pulling his arm around Verdan and tugging him closely. His other hand cupped the one on his chest, thumb stroking softly against his skin.

With nothing but the sound of Inanna’s gentle snores and the soft bubbling of the stew, the two of them drifted off into a light nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if there's any issues with spelling/grammar/punctuation that you've caught, do not hesitate to let me know (politely)!
> 
> if you noticed any wrong pronouns let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> if there's any issues with spelling/grammar/punctuation that you've caught, do not hesitate to let me know (politely)!
> 
> if you noticed any issues with wrong pronouns, let me know!


End file.
